


Straight Shooter

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Human Castiel, Humor, M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: It wasn’t working.“Christ, how much lube d’you use…”Pushing up on his elbows, Cas rolled his eyes, “An adequate amount.”“Feels like a slip n’slide.”“Dean, have you ever been on a slip and slide?”Pausing, Cas’ half hard dick in his hand and his ass begging him to get the show on the road, Dean thought about it.“Huh. No.”





	Straight Shooter

The wall A/C hummed along sluggishly, barely keeping the stale motel air at an acceptable degree. Sweat beading on his forehead, Dean swiped it with the back of his hand and squirmed. The comforter had been folded neatly on the motel table next to the weapons by Cas, the rest of the sheets kicked off onto the floor by Dean when he was the first to flop down. Flushed and tense with the kind of desperation that came from an hour of teasing when they hadn’t had sex in days, Dean groaned and shoved his hips up against Cas’ face.

“Fucks sake, it can’t taste that good…”

Rough stubble scraping his skin over sensitive, mouth working eager over and into and over Dean, Cas hummed and drew back.

“I, uh…”

That was all Dean got before Cas was diving back in, his arms slid underneath Dean’s thighs and hands gripping onto hips, squeezing, kneading, restless as Cas licked into him.

They were both stupid drunk on whiskey and beer, celebrating the close of a nasty case that left Dean mother-henning over the injuries that a human Cas couldn’t heal for himself, and Cas grumping and grouching for every bruise that Dean had too.

Sam was on the other side of the motel courtyard in his own room. Clearly, he knew what was best.

God, Dean was so wet with Cas’ tongue and the press of lube slick fingers, he felt like a girl. Shit. When did Cas get his fingers in there.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

The light in the bathroom was on, block of bright-white thrown against the far wall, spreading soft into the rest of the room, but Dean had turned off the overhead. Cas always complained about sensitive eyes when he was drunk.

Sinking his fingers into soft hair, Dean pushed and pulled and tugged Cas’ face up from between his thighs.

“Baby, you know I love it when you eat my ass, but I can’t take it anymore.”

Kneeling between Dean’s spread legs, Cas licked his lips and stroked himself. “I. Might be having difficulties.”

Blinking, the ceiling spun slightly. Dean focused on Cas. “What?”

“I can’t get hard.”

Shifting down, groping for Cas’ dick, half hard and so warm and soft in his hand, Dean could sympathize. “Got whiskey dick, hm.”

Cas glared at him.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’ll work.”

Grabbing for solid hips, Dean pulled Cas down on him, taste of artificial lube strong on his tongue and Dean could never understand how Cas could stand that. Ass tasted better on it’s own, kiss it then finger it then bang it, don’t get those steps mixed up.

“C’mere.”

Spreading his hands across broad shoulders, Dean swept down the curve of his back and urged him forward. Angling his hips up, reaching between them to guide Cas into him, Dean kissed distractedly as he hooked an ankle around Cas’ waist.

It wasn’t working.

“Christ, how much lube d’you use…”

Pushing up on his elbows, Cas rolled his eyes, “An adequate amount.”

“Feels like a slip n’slide.”

“Dean, have you ever been on a slip and slide?”

Pausing, Cas’ half hard dick in his hand and his ass begging him to get the show on the road, Dean thought about it.

“Huh. No.”

Grunting, Cas rose back up onto his knees. Put his hands on Dean’s spread thighs and hauled Dean higher into his lap. It made the heat flush hotter in Dean’s face, tingling down his spine. God it was fucking great when Cas manhandled him like that.

Shifting, Dean tried to help. Cas butted against him, slide down past his asshole to rock against his crack. Came back up and missed again, sliding along his taint.

“Just. Hold on,” Dean told him.

Reaching under his head, Dean grabbed the pillow. Planting his feet on the bed, he shoved the pillow under his ass to hold his hips up, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Ok, try that.”

A hand to the back of Dean’s thigh, Cas furrowed his brow in concentration and pressed forward. And missed.

“No, wait….” Dean told him. “Uh, get a towel from the bathroom.”

Cas sighed and backed off the bed, stumbling slightly. Dean rolled to the side, grabbed the whiskey off the bedside table and took a swig. There were dark spots of lube wetting the sheets in several spots.

“Cas, seriously, you gotta learn that sometimes less is more.”

Throwing a rough, thin worn towel at Dean’s face, Cas said, “Excuse me for wanting to make you comfortable.”

“Hey, c’mere.”

Dean swayed around the edge of the bed, slapped a hand to Cas’ waist and reeled him in for a sloppy kiss. Parting, he threw the towel over the pillow and got himself nice and cozy with his feet pointed to the ceiling as Cas crawled back onto the bed.

“Okay, try again.”

Fingers first, crooking into him and twisting around in a way that had Dean’s stomach fluttering and toes curling, Cas worked him back into the mood. Not that Dean wasn’t always in the mood, when it came to Cas.

Hips high, Dean held his hands to the backs of his knees to keep them up. His own erection was coming and going. There was a sharp twinge in his ribs, a little distracting, this tender spot on his back pressed to the mattress differently at this angle. But Cas was crowding him down, solid and strong and he could fuck Dean senseless anytime.

Only, he didn’t seem to be making it there anytime soon.

“Dude, can’t find the mark?”

“Shut up Dean.”

“There’s only one hole, how do you miss?”

Cas jostled the bed as he leaned past Dean, slapped at the lamp on the nightstand until the room was flooded bright.

Twisting, Dean slung both his legs over one of Cas’ shoulders. Cas was disgruntled, hair tousled and cheeks splotchy red - more from drinking than sex, probably. Swaying, he grasped one hand over both of Dean’s crossed ankles and hefted his legs higher. Dean relaxed against the bed, more amused at this point but down to mess around.

Smacking a hand over the bed until he found Cas’ hard thigh, Dean slid up to his cock, tried to pull him closer. Cas fumbled and bumped against him, frowning. Pulling away again, Cas half squashed Dean to the bed, fumbling around on the nightstand some more.

“C’mon, what now…” Dean grumbled.

“Be still,” Cas smacked Dean’s thigh on the side, hard enough to sting.

And just like that his dick was interested again.

Oh god.

Pushing Dean’s thighs wide, Cas squinted at him through black thin-rimmed glasses.

Dean broke into a fit of giggles.

“Seriously, you need your glasses to find my asshole?”

“So help me, if you don’t shut up I will sit on your face.”

“I’m down for that.”

“Well, I won’t fuck you then.”

“Aw, c’mon.”

Dean pouted.

A few months ago, Sam had finally dragged Cas to an optometrist after complaints of headaches, increasing squinty eyes, and difficult catching the right road signs. Go figure, the guy had crappy eyesight.

“Hey, they look pretty good on you.”

Gripping Dean’s ass, Cas slid up close to him, rocked against the tender space between his legs and crushed his balls just on the right side of painful.

“Just, hold still, Dean.”

Pulling his thighs to his chest, Dean bit his lip to stop laughing. Cas, an intense focus on his face, held his dick in one hand with the other braced on Dean as he pushed in. Just the tip, Dean’s ass loose from all the foreplay, but it still felt amazing.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean mumbled.

Shoving against Dean, curl of his fist pressing to Dean’s skin, Cas half-fucked him. He held his dick at the base to keep it in place and fucked between his fist and Dean’s asshole, more weight and that particular kind of tug at the rim than any deep stretch, and it was so so good. Like the first breach, bright pop of it, over and over and over.

“Shit.”

Curling over Dean, folding him in half and crushing the breath out of him, Cas humped through his fist until he was shaking. Dean gripped Cas’ forearm, straining and taut, doing his best to keep in position because it took damn long enough to get there. It wasn’t long until Cas jerked and started muttering fuck in repetition, eyes clenched shut. He moved his hand from between them, sunk into Dean still mostly soft, shaking. It was wet, wet and hot, Cas all over him, using him, so goddam stubborn.

Dean tapped his shoulder when it got too hard to breath. Cas blinked, blue eyes behind his glasses, scooting back and easing Dean’s legs down.

“Did, uh… did you climax?”

Dick mostly hard, stomach only wet with sweat, Dean curled a hand around himself. “Nope. Gonna help with that?”

Nodding, Cas reached to take his glasses off.

“Oh, uh-uh, you keep those on.” Dean told him.

“You’re incorrigible.”

Humming, Dean pushed Cas’ shoulder until he was face to dick, messy and rough with how drunk he was. Still, somehow, he managed to miss the mark as he kissed Dean’s hips, his thighs, tongued at his balls and meandered up the shaft. Dean suspected that at least some of it was just Cas being a little shit.

“C’mon buddy, target’s right in front of you.”

Glasses knocked askew, Cas shrugged his shoulders and tickled at the backs of Dean’s knees, licking everything but the swollen tip of his dick.

“I know I taught you how to shoot straight better’n that,” Dean groused.

This time, it was Cas that lost it to a fit of ugly laughter.


End file.
